


playing the long game

by thankyouforexisting



Category: Countdown to Countdown (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Hickeys, Homophobia, Humour, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lillium is on the baseball team, M/M, Making Out, Secret Relationship, bullying is mentioned, sex scene, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 10:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouforexisting/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: “Oh my god,” Sera whispers, her voice hushed and secretive. She leans closer towards Begonia, clutching her arm. Her eyes are wide. “Do you see that?”Begonia glances away from the blackboard for a second, frowning. “What?”“Look.” She extends a manicured fingernail in the direction of the back of the class, pointing accusatorily. Begonia’s eyes follow it by instinct.The only thing she can remark on is Iris shuffling and shifting on his seat from time to time, wincing awkwardly. Lillium rubs his back comfortingly. “I don’t get it.”“It’s Lillium White,” Sera enunciates every syllable, drawing out the sounds and fluttering her eyelashes. “Lillium White, captain of the baseball team, hottest guy in the school?”/ Or, the High School AU in which Lillium is a jock, Iris is a nerd, and they totally not, absolutely aren't dating.





	playing the long game

**Author's Note:**

> a commission for [velocesmells](http://velocesmells.tumblr.com/) for her amazing webcomic [ctc](http://ctccomic.com/)
> 
> Because let me tell you, Judy loves her high school AU.
> 
> This was finished some time ago but I'm happy to post it now!

There are two main sources of confusion for students at San Antonio High School.

 

The first one is discovering what the  _ fuck _ lurks inside the mystery meat stew (a secret that will probably never be unveiled, left to baffle scientists forever). It has become an ancient legend that the official kitchen staff create it out of the flesh of the innocent children who fail their cooking assignments in the third grade school down the road. Every year, the senior class hosts a ceremony in which they mourn the deaths of previous students who have sacrificed their lives to feed them with a minute of silence.

 

The second is why the hell do Lillium White, the most popular guy since John Travolta, and Iris Black, nerd extraordinaire, hang out.

 

…

 

Lillium is sitting on the grounds outside the school, a small enclosed space covered in grass. His back rests against the main fence, keeping him upright. Iris is lying down, head on Lillium’s lap, his oversized black sweater covering his hands completely, which are curled into tiny fists, grasping his sleeves. His legs are tucked in neatly beneath his butt to make himself smaller, his entire side stuck to Lillium’s skin.

 

They’re here because their teacher was sick for second period, so they decided to go out and nap. Iris loves that, the cute emo that he is. Lillium just...enjoys the view. Basks in the innocent pleasure of seeing Iris relaxed and happy, touching him seeking reassurance. He takes delight in ruffling Iris’s hair, hearing his little puffed breaths. He’s not going to ever tell Iris, but he whispers Lillium’s name in his sleep, sometimes. Just murmurs, soft sighs.

 

Lillium thinks,  _ how did I get so lucky? _

 

He nudges Iris gently with his arm, smiling. “Hey. Hey, sweetheart.”

 

Iris takes his time to wake up from sleep, as he always does. It starts with mumbling, stretching out his arms a little, nuzzling his cheek against Lillium’s thigh. He blinks dazedly, glancing around, and groans when he sees it’s just Lillium there. Really, true love is overrated. 

 

“Why,” Iris moans. “This is unfair and terrible.”

 

“If we miss class, Heather will come and get us,” Lillium reminds him, leaning down to kiss his forehead, a loving brush of rough lips. Iris accepts it with the barest hint of a smile. “And come on, you don’t wanna miss art class, do you?” He flutters his eyelashes at him. “My artistic genius.”

 

“Oh, shut up.” Iris throws his hands up in disgust, smacking Lillium’s face softly. Lillium’s sucks his fingers into his mouth, smirking when Iris whimpers, just a little. “A-art class is basically just me arguing with the teacher about assignments. She keeps making us do portraits!”

 

“I know what you could do.” Lillium waggles his eyebrows suggestively, threading his hands in Iris’s hair. “Draw me like one of your french girls.”

 

Iris raises an eyebrow, pushing himself up with his elbow and setting his chin on Lillium’s knee. “Cute.”

 

“But we’ve still got to get you into a classroom.” Carefully, Lillium holds Iris’s head, lifting it from his legs. He helps him up with one hand, pushing upwards. Iris whines pitifully, resting his weight against Lillium and sagging like an extremely gay potato bag. “Aw, babe, don’t make this harder on me.”

 

“You’re the jock in this relationship,” Iris mumbles, voice muffled. His lips brush Lillium’s t-shirt. “Carry me, if you’re so insistent.”

 

Lillium smirks.

 

Iris’s entire face fills with horrified realization.

 

“Oh, no.”

 

The whole adventure ends up with them being 10 minutes lates to each of their respective classes, scratch marks all over Lillium’s back, and Iris laughing so hard he almost throws up.

 

…

 

“Oh my god,” Sera whispers, her voice hushed and secretive. She leans closer towards Begonia, clutching her arm. Her eyes are wide. “Do you see that?”

 

Begonia glances away from the blackboard for a second, frowning. “What?”

 

“ _ Look _ .” She extends a manicured fingernail in the direction of the back of the class, pointing accusatorily. Begonia’s eyes follow it by instinct.

 

It’s Lillium and Iris that she seems to be staring at, sitting next to each other on the seats beside the open window. Lillium’s gaze is, as it always is, on Iris, a stupidly big smile painted over his lips, pink hair shining in the sunlight. Begonia’s best friend, for his part, has a leaf on the top of his head (shouldn’t sit near the open window when there’s wind out, Iris), and is doodling on Lillium’s arm with what she’s pretty sure is a permanent marker. She makes a face. Oh god, she hopes he hasn’t draw another dick. Last time, Lillium showed it off proudly to all of his friends, praising Iris’s artistic abilities and got detention for a week.

 

Iris, naturally, stayed with him, complaining about it every step of the way.

 

The only thing she can remark on is Iris shuffling and shifting on his seat from time to time, wincing awkwardly. Lillium rubs his back (his  _ lower _ back) comfortingly. And well. She loves her friends, but she doesn’t necessarily want to know  _ exactly _ what goes on between them in the bedroom.

 

“I don’t get it.” Begonia shrugs helplessly at Sera, biting her lower lip. 

 

“It’s  _ Lillium White _ ,” Sera enunciates every syllable, drawing out the sounds and fluttering her eyelashes. “Lillium White, captain of the baseball team, hottest guy in the school?” She scowls. “Ugh, I just don’t get why he hangs out with  _ Black _ , of all people.” She rolls her eyes. “Honestly, that weirdo is probably trying to seduce him or some shit.” She scoffs, flipping her hair back. “As  _ if _ . He  _ obviously _ has better taste.”

 

Begonia remembers last night at her house, when Heather, Lillium and Iris came over to play an intense game of Monopoly (often called Monopology, because it has to end with many apologies and Heather cackling evilly, clutching money close to her bossom). She wonders how Sera would react if she mentioned Lillium and Iris spent most of that time making out.

 

If it were Heather here, she’d make a sassy comeback about how apparently that taste doesn’t think Sera is good enough, either. But Begonia isn’t Heather.

 

“I don’t think Iris is weird,” she says instead, moving slightly away from Sera. A person who insults Iris like that is not someone Begonia wants to be close to at all. “He’s one of my best friends.”

 

The girl sighs, resting her arms on the table. She glowers at Iris, jealousy flickering in her features. “Whatever. I just hope the shit he has isn’t contagious.”

 

Begonia shuts her eyes. Must not tell anyone about this. She doesn’t want Lillium or Heather  to be arrested for first degree murder, and only Heather would be smart enough to hide the body properly, anyway. 

 

(She remembers black eyes and scraped knees, remembers Iris shaking every time he was left alone, yelling out Lillium’s name in choked cries. Remembers Lillium covering him with a baby blue blanket, glaring ferociously at anyone who dared to touch him. Remembers the blood dripping on the floor, drop by drop, staining fabric and seeping through.)

 

It isn’t strange, though, that Sera noticed. 

 

Iris and Lillium have been close since they were kids; growing up in the same neighbourhood does that. They’ve always bickered, pushed each other around, gone on holidays together and joined the same clubs in school, despite how much Iris protested. Lillium was too much, too loud, too hyper, and Iris rolled his eyes in despair at his shenanigans.

 

But it’s changed, now that they’re dating, despite the fact that they still keep it a secret in school.

 

Their relationship is...gentler. As if the rough edges have been smoothed out. She can see it in the way Lillium beams more every day, just content to be near Iris. She can see it in Iris’s art, in the ever growing collection of drawings depicting his boyfriend, the evolution to warmer colours and less terrified fiery scribbles painted with trembling hands. She hears it in their shared laughter up in Lillium’s treehouse, in the quiet movements their bodies make just to be near each other. In the  _ I love you _ s that don’t need to be spoken.

 

They’re comfortable with each other, desperately smitten, and happy.

 

And if Begonia was the one deciding that stuff? 

 

Well. She hopes it’s contagious.

 

 

…

 

“This is disgusting,” Lillium declares, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

All around their crowded table (it comes with sitting around the most popular guy at school), people glance at their food in dismay, as if they suddenly realize it is, in fact, the most disgusting thing ever.

 

Heather snorts into her sandwich. “Here we go again.”

 

“ _ This _ .” Lillium stabs their cafeteria steak with his fork, lifting it and glaring at it. If looks could kill, it would be  _ dead meat _ . “This is an insult to food and cooks all over the world.” His voice quivers in anger. “It’s  _ blasphemy _ !”

 

“Calm down, there, Master Chef.” Iris sets a hand on his shoulder, smiling. “I think you’ll survive.”

 

“But,  _ Iris _ ,” Lillium whines, dramatically leaning against Iris’s side. This means that Lillium, who’s about as tall as two giraffes stacked together, is resting his entire weight on Iris’s skinny ass emo frame. It’s as suffocating as it sounds. The cheerleaders gasp.

 

_ The things I do for this boy _ , Iris sighs. There isn’t another way to get him to eat when he’s like this

 

Lifting his arm longsufferingly, he starts to feed Lillium the food. In front of the whole cafeteria. His boyfriend purrs in pleasure, opens his mouth like a baby. 

 

Heather cackles.

 

…

 

“Iris,” Mandy whispers. She sounds seriously concerned.“Iris, why is Lillium White here?”

 

Iris closes his eyes. “You know, Mandy, I have no idea. I honestly don’t.”

 

In school, they have manga and anime club on Thursdays. Iris is already a known fucking nerd, so he figured there was no point in being ashamed, and joined, embracing the cringy whiteness. He now enjoys spending his time watching subbed anime and eating popcorn with all the other nerds, and throws sodas at people any time they ask him to draw them anime girls with ‘big tiddies’.

 

Except Lillium’s apparently decided that he will join the club, too. 

 

“I’m excited!” Lillium insists. He bounces on his tiptoes at the entrance of the room they use for club meetings. It’s mostly just a big couch and a TV so old it probably played black and white movies.

 

“You’ve never watched anime in your life,” Iris reminds him.

 

“...I’m a quick learner.”

 

“Take this normie out of here,” Tom mutters, banging his forehead against the desk table. “Before he goes all weeaboo on my ass. This is why popular kids and us don’t mix well.”

 

Lillium glances at Iris, face scrunching up in dismay. “But...I don’t want to wait for you outside. I want to stay here.” He steps closer, pressing his thumb to Iris’s cheek gently. “With you.”

 

“You can just go home,” Iris offers. “I’ll ring your bell when I get there, okay?”

 

His boyfriend smirks. “You always ring my bell, babe.”

 

Iris throws him out.

 

(And finds him waiting on the steps of the school two hours later, drenched in rainwater, beaming the minute he sees Iris.)

 

...

 

“Yo, Lillium,” Parker calls out his name, nodding at his direction and frowning. “What’s that you got on your neck?”

 

Automatically, his hands go up to touch his neck. He shivers.

 

“That, my friend, is a hickey.” Justin snorts, rolling his eyes. “Which you would know, if you ever got any.” The boy turns to Lillium, slapping his ass with his t-shirt. “Now, now, we didn’t know our school celebrity was having some fun. What’s with that?”

 

“Oh, nothing.” Lillium waves it off, his smirk plastered on his face. 

 

(Iris’s lips stuck to his skin, sucking and  _ sucking _ , licking all over. His fingers clutching Lillium’s back, nails digging in mercilessly. Panting breaths stealing all of Lillium’s oxygen. The whispered moan, “ _ Lillium _ .”) 

 

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Justin pouts, leaning against Lilllium’s locker. He flutters his eyelashes pleadingly. “Share the deets?”

 

Lillium winks. “Why don’t you get your own deets to share, Justin? I think I’m going to hold on to this for a little bit longer, if you don’t mind.”

 

“ _ Brutal _ .” Justin presses the back of his palm against his forehead, sighing dramatically. “You better watch out on the field, I’mma kick your ass.”

 

“If you can get Heather not to kick yours,” Parker mutters.

 

“Hey!”

 

Practice is a part of Lillium’s routine, now, after almost being three years on the baseball team. It’s become something he looks forward to every day, a way for him to let go, to shoot the ball with as much strength as he can without worrying about the consequences. There’s a reassurance in holding his bat, curling his hands around it, and swinging.

 

Certainly helped while he got familiar with handjobs, too.

 

“Heather,” Begonia mumbles near him, pushing their friend to her base. “Heather, we’re trying to start.”

 

“But I’m so  _ tiiiiiiired _ ,” she moans. She lets Begonia drag her, going limp as a doll. “It’s so  _ hot _ .”

 

Lillium smiles. As they always do, his eyes wander to the bleachers.

 

Iris is there.

 

He sits alone at the back (“Because I don’t want anyone more than necessary to realize I’m at this place.”), his legs not reaching the floor. Iris’s sketchpad is on his thighs (“I need  _ something _ to do when you’re out there chasing after tiny balls like an idiot.”), open on a page. He’s munching on the edges of his sweater’s sleeves, gaze focused on the field, while his hand moves swiftly on paper.

 

A breath escapes him, and he bites his lower lip. Iris never misses practice. Never misses a game. Lillium knows people give him weird looks, that he doesn’t particularly like sports, and that even after having researched the fuck out of baseball, he still doesn’t understand it very well. So every time Lillium scores a home run, every time his legs burn and his chest itches like it’s about to explode, he remembers that.

 

Can feel Iris watching him, encouraging him in that soft, mockingly disinterested way of his.

 

“Hey.” Begonia’s voice shakes him out of his reverie, and he blinks. She has a soft grin on her face. “You were spacing out again.”

 

Sheepish. “Can you blame me?”

 

“Try not to, alright?” Begonia puts her hair up, sighing tiredly. “I’m nervous about the game next week.”

 

“You’re nervous about every game, Begonia.” Lillium wraps an arm around her shoulders, bumping their bodies together. Parker wolf-whistles. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re a great player.”

 

“S-stop it.” Her cheeks are red. “Or s-someone’s going to be jealous.”

 

Lillium kisses her cheek noisily, slobbering all over her, and Begonia giggles, pushing her hand against his lips and mumbling, “Lillium,  _ Lillium _ -”

 

...

 

“I saw that you and Begonia got to third base today, apparently,” Iris jokes as they walk home from school.

 

“Really.” Lillium reaches out, threads their fingers together. Iris looks down at his feet.“Did you.”

 

“Uh huh.” 

 

“But who am I walking home now?” Lillium squeezes his hand, gentle. “Begonia’s not here.”

 

Iris snorts. “I’m joking, you know that, right? I can’t feel threatened. You are the most obvious guy in the world.”

 

“I am?” Lillium steps a little closer.

 

“Yeah.” His boyfriend side-eyes him, but continues walking. “Like, you keep holding my hand and brushing my arm. And you sit to next to me all the time.”

 

“True,” Lillium admits. “But I don’t suck on you until it leaves a mark.”

 

Iris’s cheek heat up. “Oh, shut up, you enjoyed it.”

 

“I did.” Lillium pauses, glances around. No one around. He pushes Iris against the nearest tree, making sure he doesn’t hurt him. His boyfriend whimpers, grips his t-shirt. Lillium leans in close, lets his voice go husky and low. “I enjoyed it  _ very _ much.”

 

Iris pushes his head back, swallows hard His adam’s apple bobs. “Reciprocate, then?”

 

“Is this what you call ‘keeping it a secret’?” Lillium murmurs, pressing his lips against bare skin. It’s warm, feverish. Iris’s finger curl around Lillium’s sleeves, grounding himself. “Do you want us to match?” 

 

Iris trembles, putty in his hands. “Fuck.”

 

“Not outside, I think,” Lillium hums, but kisses diligently, licks and sinks his teeth in, hard. The response he gets is hips bucking forward, shaky breaths. He holds Iris without any force, joins their foreheads. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

 

Iris nods, eyes dazed. “Um. Um, yeah.”

 

The beginnings of a bruise burn red on his neck.

 

They don’t keep it secret because they’re scared.

 

They keep it secret because it’s  _ theirs _ .

 

…

 

San Antonio High School wins the game.

 

“ _ FUCK YEAH _ !” Heather screams. She takes off her jersey, waving it around in the air, her sports bra shining with sweat. “WE FUCKING DESTROYED YOU ALL!”

 

“Heather, please!” Begonia keeps tugging at her hand. “Sportsmanship!”

 

“BURN AND DIE, YOU LOSERS!”

 

“This is why we always get disqualified,” Parker grumbles. “Heather starts stripping, then  _ Lillium _ starts stripping, then -”

 

“Let the woman be,” Justin tells him. “She’s happy, and she caught the ball.”

 

“I HAD THE BALL! IN MY HAND! STRAIGHT GIRLS GOT NOTHING ON ME!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Begonia begs the referee. “She’s usually very calm -”

 

“DAMN HEATHER!” Lillium shouts. “BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THOSE DAMN CATCHES!”

 

Heather dabs majestically, jumping from the stands into Lillium’s arms.

 

“Fucking hell.” Parker buries his head in his hands. “I fucking hate this school.”

 

…

 

It always takes Lillium a while to gather stuff up and head to the locker rooms. As captain, he’s expected to shake hands with the referees, meet the other team’s captain, and boss everyone around to organize the celebratory dinner. Because of that, he’s usually the last person in the place to enter, and most of the times, the only one.

 

So when he gets in, whistling to himself happily, and finds none of his teammates lurking around, he isn’t surprised.

 

He  _ is _ surprised, though, at seeing Iris sitting on one of the benches.

 

“Iris,” he says. 

 

Lillium’s a very smart guy.

 

“Hey,” his boyfriend murmurs. He smiles. “That was a good game.”

 

“Yeah.” Lillium swallows. There’s sweat running down his skin, heated pants warming the air around him. His abdomen is tight. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

He sits down next to Iris, slowly. “Y-you here ‘cause you missed me so bad you couldn’t wait?”

 

Iris doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, creating a poignant silence in the locker room. He shifts his legs, pulling them up on the bench, and sets each one on either side of Lillium’s waist.

 

Iris answers, “Yes,” in a voice so wanton and aching that Lillium can’t stop himself, can’t help but fall forward into his arms, crush their lips together.

 

This isn’t the first time it’s happened. They’re not very good at keeping their hands away from each other; not at all. Countless instances in empty classrooms, Iris shoving Lillium against the desk, moaning and begging. Secret passionate kisses behind the bleachers, too dark to be able to see with anything but touch, a gentle guidance that sparks shivers in both of them. It’s just…

 

They  _ want _ . Fiercely. Endlessly. Desperately.

 

Iris paws at Lillium, pushes into him and thrusts their hips together. 

 

“You’re so fucking gross,” he breathes, his chin on Lillium’s shoulder. “You fucking smell.”

 

Lillium grins, licks his lips and brushes his nipples knowingly. “Do you like it?”

 

“...It’s alright,” Iris admits in a choked out gasp.

 

It takes them less than five minutes before Iris is lying down on the bench, legs raised up over Lillium’s shoulder. Less than ten before Lillium gets the lube ready, before he’s softly stroking Iris, covering his face in kisses. Less than fifteen before he’s two fingers in.

 

“Lillium,” Iris keens. His hands are clutching the edges of the bench, holding on for dear life. “Jesus  _ Christ _ , Lillium. Fuck.”

 

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, swallowing hard. He moves his fingers, probes at Iris’s inside, listens to the way his voice cracks and crumbles. His boyfriend is so  _ warm _ , wet and alive, trembling around him like he hit a raw nerve. “Baby, do you want more?”

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Iris pleads. There’s overwhelmed tears in his eyes, and Lillium kisses them away lovingly. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,  _ please _ , Lillium -”

 

Lillium pushes in again, his index finger pressing against Iris’s rim until it widens enough, digs deeper. Iris is aflame in his arms, his t-shirt fallen on the floor and his stupid skinny jeans down to his ankles. Lillium moves, curls his fingers - they brush against something soft and -

 

“ _ Ah _ ,” Iris cries, coming all over himself, a mess of tears and sweat and overstimulation. He writhes, whimpers. “Lillium, Lillium, Lillium...Lillium.”

 

“I’m here,” he kisses his forehead gently, takes his fingers out with care. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

 

“Lillium -”

 

“I know, I know,” Lillium holds him. “I know, baby.”

 

“Let me.” Iris leans forward, chest heaving. “I want to -”

 

His hands slide downwards Lillium’s baseball shorts, shaking, and Lillium stops them, biting his lip. He’s throbbing inside, a warmth inside him that screams to be filled, making him pulse, but…

 

“You sure, love?” Lillium murmurs. “You okay to do it?”

 

“ _ Fuck _ yes,” Iris rasps. His head goes down as soon as Lillium’s naked from the waist down, almost as if it’s a reflex. “God, you’re hot.”

 

“T-that’s good to know.” Lillium shuts his eyes. At the first slide of Iris’s fingers near him, he spreads his thighs, letting out intermittent breaths. “S-shit.”

 

“I think we’re going to miss the celebratory dinner,” Iris whispers in his ear, caressing his neck softly. “Is it alright if I eat now, Lillium?”

 

Lillium licks his lips. “I - I -  _ Iris _ .”

 

Even as he licks for the first time, even as he reaches the innermost parts of him, holding him open and taking him, raw and wild, even as Lillium’s whole body shudders once,  _ twice _ ; Iris’s eyes never leave his.

 

…

 

They go back to Lillium’s place

 

Lillium and Iris hold hands the way there, both exhausted and much too filthy to care about anything more than just getting to a place where they can sleep. It’s late; the streets are empty. Their footsteps make no sound, just splatters of contentment against the concrete. 

 

Lillium’s shower is big enough for two, so they get in together, holding themselves up as best as they can. Blinking quickly to stay awake, Lillium shampoos Iris’s hair, gives him the most emo hairstyle he can manage.

 

“Stop it,” Iris mumbles, hugging Lillium tights. He always gets clingier after having sex, and Lillium rejoices in it. “And what even  _ is _ this shower? Why do you have like, ten different brands of conditioner here?”

 

“I have dyed pink hair, Iris,” Lillium defends himself, still playing around. He chooses coconut-smelling shower gel, so he has an excuse to sniff Iris after they get into bed. “I have to maintain in pristine condition.”

 

“Hmm-hmmm.” Iris snorts. “Hands up.”

 

He rubs soap under Lillium’s armpits, cleans him up as best as he can. “You’re always really gross after games,” Iris complains, making sure there’s no dirt on his chest. “Seriously, I don’t think you have to launch yourself into the ground that hard.”

 

Lillium smirks. “Are you worried about me?”

 

Iris shoves the sponge into his side, making him whine. “Watch your tongue, White.”

 

“Oh, I remember  _ your  _ tongue was all over me a few hours ago -”

 

He gets another sponge punch for that. It’s totally worth it.

 

Lillium carries Iris to the bed, after. Iris is all wrapped up in a towel, his hair fluffed up from drying it roughly. His head lolls, falling on Lillium’s chest, and his fingers cling to him strongly. 

 

Iris is the most precious thing Lillium will ever hold. The most fragile jewel to ever grace his home. The ultimate salvation. Iris barely weighs anything; he’s light and small. But for Lillium, right now he has everything in his arms. 

 

Lillium buries his head in the crook of Iris’s neck. 

 

“I love you.”

 

“Love you, too,” Iris whispers.

 

Lillium’s bed is warm.

 

Iris is warmer.

 

…

 

There are two main sources of confusion for students at San Antonio High School.

 

The first one is an undiscovered legend about cannibalism. Hard to measure up against.

 

The second is love.

 

(Cannibalism still wins, though.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! <3  
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://i-read-good-books.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/gomadelpelorota)


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